Remember Tomorrow
by RoninOfHell
Summary: The battle-weary Agents arrive at Vlad the Forger's place to wait for their new fake identities. Takes place before the epilogue of Agents of Metal Part 3.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue of Agents of Metal Part 3. Builds on "The Past is Alive." Probably owes more than a little to ArmageddonClan's work. And yes, it's basically an excuse to write some more fluff :) Named after the classic Iron Maiden song from their debut album._

...

The steel-grey Ka came to a halt on the gravel driveway in front of Vlad the Forger's small two-story cottage. It was already past midnight, and very dark. But the light was on to welcome the two Agents.

The drive had not been as hair-raising as the one in the stolen red SCEPTRE car, but still, it could have meant trouble. The bullet-pierced windshield would certainly have made the cops curious, as well as the loaded semiautomatic in the glove box, the only weapon they had left for themselves. All the rest had been loaded aboard the IAC before Erik had taken off.

It was sort of like his internal clock had been reset, and Ian did not even feel tired at this point. At least on the surface. But behind that, he knew he had to be close to his limit, mentally, emotionally and physically.

After the short tender moment when Jo had recalled the Ka's steering wheel, she had kept quiet. But she had been dutifully awake, scanning the traffic for any signs of trouble.

Ian turned to her. "This is Vlad's place," he said.

"Right," Jo answered.

They exited the small hatchback and Ian rang the doorbell after locking the car.

Only perhaps ten seconds passed, and the door opened. Vlad looked just like Ian last remembered, the wavy black hair, a friendly expression on his face. Though Ian could understand that part of the friendliness had to do with the pay he would receive from the Agency for hosting them and preparing their false identities.

More precisely, the pay would come from Hermann Grieg's company. As there were not many actual Agents alive to speak of at this point. Well – the Agents had served their purpose. The rogue planet had been repelled and SCEPTRE / THRONE was basically no more.

It was tiring to even think of that now. To be able to stay at Vlad's place while he took care of practical matters would be immensely relieving. That practically only left Ian to ponder the next most critical thing on his mind, of whether Jo's memory would recover more, and how long it would take.

Ian just had to remind himself that he was practically guilty of everything bad that had happened to her. But still, they were both alive, physically relatively unharmed. Except for Ian's heart no longer being organic, but that was possibly even an improvement? In any case, everything could have ended up much worse.

"Come in," Vlad said.

Ian and Jo followed him to the small living room. The TV was on, and an epic orchestral theme rang out from the speakers, as a sword was being forged in a fire behind the opening credits.

Ian recognized the movie - Conan the Barbarian.

"It's a classic," Vlad said. "But don't worry, I won't recite quotes from it. Rather, you must be hungry? I'll make some tea and sandwiches. And you can use the guest bedroom on the second floor."

"That's kind, all of that," Jo answered.

They sat down on the living room sofa as Vlad went away to the kitchen. For some reason, the movie seemed to evoke some long-lost memories. But Ian couldn't exactly pinpoint them.

Until it hit him. Lucas. The SCEPTRE training. It was just a short flash, like most of them. They had been discussing what's best in life, like in the scene later in the movie. But Ian no longer remembered his answer.

For a brief moment, Ian considered whether it was wise to even speak about it. But to hell with it, he thought then. It would be preferable to just silence. He had talked about his SCEPTRE past to Jo many times, but of course now she wouldn't actually remember that, so he had to take that into account.

Ian turned to Jo. "On your recording to yourself, you said I had been trained by the enemy. And that's exactly right. From time to time … I have these memory flashes too. Some of them are quite disturbing. I just had one, related to this film. See, during the training I had this friend, Lucas..."

The tale was honestly quite complicated, and Ian tried to take as many shortcuts as he could. But Jo seemed interested in listening. It was something to pass the time, in the very least.

Just as Vlad brought the food and drinks on the low table, Ian got to the very compressed ending. "I guess – he had fulfilled his purpose. He was at peace when his steam finally ran out."

"Tragic. Maybe there wasn't anything else left for him," Jo observed.

Ian noted she had put her hand on top of his. Very appropriate, except –

The words were out kind of by instinct. "Jo, you don't have to do that, if it's not what you really feel –"

In an instant her expression got a lot colder.

"Right," she said and withdrew the hand.

They ate and drank in silence. At this point Conan's parents had been murdered by Thulsa Doom, and he had been sold to slavery, grinding the wheel of pain endlessly. That was very fitting. And Ian thought, fuck, why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?

Vlad spoke up.

"You know, most EU countries have an extradition treaty with the States. So you should change your appearance, and we better do the identities the proper way. As well as the registration for the car. It will take more time, and cost more. But you probably aren't in a hurry?"

Ian didn't even register all of the words. But he could agree. There was no hurry. Plenty of time for more mistakes. Digging himself into a hole properly. In the worst case, plenty of time to wait for a recovery that would never come.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

They were upstairs, checking the guest bedroom. It was small, but would do. The atmosphere was just not that great, wary and tense. Jo wondered, how long it would be like this? It could get intolerable fast. Maybe she should have handled the situation somehow differently. After all Ian seemed to only have her best interest in mind.

"I'm sorry," Ian began, breaking the silence.

Jo spoke without much hesitation. "No need. You were right. I practically don't know you. I don't fucking know myself."

To that Ian had no reply. Indeed, it could become a long stay. And what afterward? After they would get their new identities?

"It's been a long day. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Remember, you already recalled things," he said at last.

"Yeah," Jo sighed. "But I don't think I will get any sleep yet. I'll go watch the rest of Conan."

Jo had a faint memory of how the story went. Even though Conan would triumph against his enemy, it was somehow depressing and militant. Therefore, very appropriate now. She turned to head out of the room.

"I'll come with you, if that's OK?" Ian asked.

If the recording was right, and they had practically faced hell together, it was somehow very heartbreaking that he even felt the need to ask that.

Jo froze in place, and they looked at each other for a moment. The pain and uncertainty in Ian's eyes was very evident now. Even if he had been trying to hide it all through the day.

A split-second later Jo understood that Ian was probably seeing exactly the same, and had the same intention. But it was too late. They collided somewhat clumsily in the middle of the room.

"Let's make a deal, " Ian breathed. "I won't ever tell you what not to do."

Jo let go a little bit. "What's my part of the deal?"

"Uh... I didn't think that far."

…

They were settled back on the sofa, resuming the viewing. Vlad had excused himself, saying he would already contact his associates so they knew to prepare. Tomorrow, they would need to choose the fake names, and the process would begin for real.

At this point in the movie, Conan had banded together with Subotai and Valeria. They were infiltrating the snake-cult's tower.

Jo thought her spirits were markedly better. Or at least she felt much less on the edge. Hug first and ask questions later, was it then?

"Can I ask, how exactly did we get … close?" she asked.

Ian seemed lost in thought for a moment. The question was of course quite heavy.

"It's not a time I'm that proud of. I was practically dragging you along into danger I didn't even understand myself. But there was some shit involved you wouldn't probably believe. Basically, you went into an inverted version of that snake tower –"

"Inverted?"

"Like going below the ground. And well, I went after you, and –"

Ian looked to be getting embarrassed. Jo didn't want to push him too much now.

"Basically I needed you to wake up. A kiss would do it, right? Except I did it so soft it probably didn't register, because – I also didn't want to disturb you."

Jo shook her head. It was kind of an overload of cute, but –

"That doesn't make any sense," she said.

Ian smiled at her, as if saying, that's what I'm like; deal with it.

The crazy part was, that she remembered something. Not that exact occasion, but something much earlier. It had to be from her childhood, a fantasy that was just as ridiculous and embarrassing. But he had kind of fulfilled it.

And from that memory, something else followed.

A cacophony of noise and headbanging, a four-piece thrash band on stage, and her in the front row. That had to be from a couple of years later. That memory was somehow very vivid, and almost overwhelming when it came back to her at once.

The band was Slayer.

And there was a kind of an insane coincidence, if it was true. If it was not just a fabrication of her mind.

"Do you remember … going to a Slayer concert years back?" Jo asked.

Again, Ian had to pause to think.

"That's the part of my life I remember as a haze. After I had been … released by the Agents. But yeah, I think I did. It was the Unholy Alliance tour, a show at an amphitheatre. I had fake ID."

So that he could drink while underage. Perfectly credible.

"And so, what if I did? What's the significance?"

Now it was Jo's turn to just smile back.

...

Finally Conan had beheaded Thulsa Doom, and his cult was scattering, robbed of their leader and purpose in life. Throughout the latter part of the movie, Jo and Ian had been trying to piece together which of the characters they were, but mostly fruitlessly. Conan's recovery after being taken down from the Tree of Woe kind of fit them both, but otherwise they really weren't like him.

There was one comparison that kind of fit.

Erik. He was strong just like Conan. And during the rogue planet mission, he had lost the one Agent close to him, Gwen aka Blowfish, like Conan had lost Valeria.

"Hacking servers, and firing any gun, it was all second nature to her," Ian remarked somberly. For now Jo couldn't recall her yet, except as part of the others' stories. It would still take time.

It was also almost 3 AM now. Now there wasn't much more to do except to call it quits.

"Think it's time to head back upstairs. Will you kiss me to sleep then?" Jo asked.

For a moment she thought whether Ian would ask if she was sure if it was a good idea. Or something. But instead he just looked at her with a very mellow expression.

"Sure. Lead the way."


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: A shout-out to omen mortis! Like I possibly said before, my stuff owes a lot to you too; I had this idea of Ian doing car reviews in his own style and they wouldn't exactly be the usual...  
_

_..._

Morning.

Now was the time to come up with the false names, otherwise the procedure for the false papers would be delayed unnecessarily. Ian remembered the last time, when he had come up with the Agent codename "Legion" under extreme time pressure. This wasn't exactly that bad, but still he could feel Vlad's gaze boring into him with expectation, as they were sitting at the small kitchen table.

Ian thought back to last night – watching Conan the Barbarian while dead exhausted could have easily happened at the Agent HQ. The night had ended on a positive, relaxed note, up to him kissing Jo good night. Just something very brief and light, but that was a start. And it certainly fit, though Jo had been more skeptic, that they both basically were Conan, in recovery. Jo of course recovering her memory, while he would need to regain his strength after the SCEPTRE resurrection and training. As well as grow his long hair back.

But back to the present. The much more businesslike atmosphere, and the matter of the fake names.

"Were you in any ticking time bomb scenarios?" Vlad suddenly asked.

For Ian, the question carried an added complexity – considering that Jo had purged her mind of the Fury personality, possibly taking some of the more painful memories of their Agent adventures permanently away as well, to what degree should he self-censor now?

But fuck. That would be an endless road of eggshells.

"Does a nuclear missile coming at you count?" he answered.

Jo looked at him with some curiosity. Then she began her own version.

"Or the planet Nibiru .. sweeping toward Earth while you're stuck at the lowest level of Area 51, trying to get the alien craft booted up before the Air Force reinforcements tear you to shreds."

Vlad just shook his head. "I was thinking of Jack Bauer. And how he can justify doing anything. But you sort of one-up him," he said with a half-joking tone.

Ian wondered how crazy stories Vlad's other clients would have.

But Jack. That name was rather serviceable.

And...

He turned to Jo. "Hey. That's an easy code. Just shift one letter in the alphabet. You'd be K something then."

Jo appeared thoughtful. "Isn't that too easy?"

"Not necessarily," Vlad said. "You will need to change your appearance and mannerisms anyway, those are much more crucial than names."

"Well... so K then. That's a difficult letter. Katrina … Katherine. Fuck it, too complex."

"What if you'd be just Kate," Vlad suggested. "Jack and Kate … it's actually from that series … where the writers themselves were lost."

Neither of them laughed at Vlad's pun. But the names sounded good enough. Settled then?

…

The Ka was in a sorry state, Jo thought, as she and Ian were outside, the identity business taken care of for now. Vlad had enough to get the wheels rolling, though their cover stories would need more work later.

But the Ka - replacing the windshield would be the absolute minimum, then there were more bullet holes all over, sustained after the electromagnetic shield had run out. Would the cover story involve them being from some gang warfare neighborhood? No matter what the explanation, that would be more unwanted attention from the authorities. Better to get it all fixed. Maybe just some plastic filler. Or crudely welded sheet metal, and a new paint job. It would not necessarily need to be pretty.

Jo thought herself restless and impatient. On the subject of her memory, she didn't recall anything more now. Possibly she was just expecting too much too quickly. Maybe a short jog would do good instead. She knew there would now be plenty of waiting ahead, until they could leave Vlad's place behind, and it would be good to stay in shape, even if they didn't expect to run into serious trouble.

But before she could suggest that, Ian opened up.

"I was thinking … of car reviews in Agent style. The Ka would actually score quite well, like maneuvering, enemy fire evasion, and sudden accelerations. Especially after what Nitro did to customize it. But it wasn't that bad even in factory shape. There's also the psychological warfare angle where it shines, blending in and confusing your enemies..."

Jo thought Ian was just rambling, but she kind of liked it, being relaxed and somewhat goofy. Even if the thought of more situations where those qualities would be needed for real, was honestly oppressive and disgusting.

"Where it scores minus points, is the rear-seat access for a quick getaway –"

Ian's voice trailed off, seemingly broken by emotion.

"Fuck. That's how Gwen got fatally hurt. Four doors, and she'd be alive now."

Seeing Ian so overcome with something Jo could not really connect with was honestly disconcerting. She had of course heard the tale of their getaway from the subterranean Nibiru cave, even multiple times, but honestly, it meant little to her.

Suddenly the words were out almost by subconscious control. And much worse than what Jo had intended them to be. There was something bottled up that just wanted to come out all at once, and it was honestly terrible.

"That's just a name. It means nothing to me. How can I even know if that's something you're all making up? To just appear … I don't even know what. Like more serious. Profound. The serious war-torn Agents. Messing with my brain with your stories, seeing how much of it I eat up..."

Considering how she had herself ridden an IAC up from the depths of Area 51, and seen the foreign planet with her own eyes – that was all after she had messed with her mind completely on her own initiative – Jo knew this was a wholly unnecessary stretch of imagination.

But the words couldn't be taken back anymore.

Ian stared at her with his mouth open, not quite believing what he was hearing.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: __There's this repeated element from ArmageddonClan which I borrowed in an earlier story almost without noticing, it practically became canon in my mind. Thanks! Now I try to give my own twist to it…_

_..._

Ian quite couldn't believe what he was hearing. He could well have understood Jo wanting to keep her distance, but this was something else. A true punch in the gut.

His throat hurt along with his strained shout.

"What the fuck, Jo? You trust me – or any of us who were there – that little? That we'd be feeding you lies? For what? But if that's what you believe, well, fuck you then!"

He took a breath, as Jo looked away. In his mind the rapid-fire of words continued.

_And I guess you're going to take a hike now? Well, it's better that way, do it right now, instead of keeping me guessing when it's going to happen!_

But something told him to hold back at the last second. So instead he was just left holding his breath, while Jo was already walking back inside the cottage, her head bowed down.

"Fuck!" Ian shouted as the door closed, and kicked the right front tire of the Ka. His boot bounced back with force, almost like the hatchback was mocking him now.

Truth be told, Ian did not know for sure how it would go from this point onward. He could only be glad of one thing, that he had shut his mouth before his second salvo. But the unsaid words still circled in his mind, almost if poisoning it.

Yet, he wanted to believe that nothing was really unfixable. Jo's just upset with her lack of progress, he thought. And he should have handled this much better.

He looked down at the Ka's bonnet as if to challenge it, the absurd thought of it observing him returning.

"And fuck you too," he muttered.

Then he began to gather the strength to follow Jo inside.

…

For a brief moment Jo had considered locking herself inside the bathroom. But she knew it was not really like her. The guest room would do just fine. She had briefly made eye contact with Vlad as he was working on his laptop in the living room, and was sure her expression was something horrible, but Vlad had possessed the wisdom to not ask anything.

It was inevitable that Ian would find her sooner or later. And they would have to settle this in somewhat adult manner. Jo just didn't really look forward to it.

Why, in the name of bloody hell, would she say such things? And why did Ian have to respond that harshly? Though it made perfect sense that he would. Even he had to have a limit.

Jo sunk on the guest room bed and let out a deep sigh. She didn't even have any tears to cry. Instead it felt like she was not really here, in this reality. Or maybe the cottage was some small, fake reality of its own. There probably was a technical term for the feeling. Dissociation, was it?

...

"Everything OK?" Vlad asked as Ian entered the cottage.

"Well… Not really."

A moment of silence hung in the air. Vlad's eyes seemed to be full of understanding, compassion even, but what would he actually be able to do to help? Back then he had helped with the SCEPTRE mechanical heart, and truth be told, it had been indispensable.

Then Ian got an idea.

"Can I borrow your laptop? Just a few google searches."

"Be my guest. I'll just close this connection, so that I don't break my confidentiality."

Ian came to sit next to Vlad on the living room sofa, and Vlad handed the laptop to him. All the applications had been closed, but Ian just needed the browser.

The game Cave Story had been the first instance when Ian had started comparing his life to fictional stories. So maybe fiction would help even now.

He googled:

_amnesia in fiction_

One of the top results that came up was a site called tvtropes dot org. Despite the name, they supposedly categorized practically every story element in all of fiction, according to the description. That sounded good.

Ian started following the links.

Quickly, he found there was a shitton of material. Too much to go through. And honestly, reading it only increased his anxiety. Like the rather heartbreaking ending to the TV series Chuck, which was even dangerously close to his and Jo's situation.

Fuck. Ian closed the window, almost in disgust. But he thought he would return, just for entertainment, if things would get better.

"Thanks," he said and stood up.

Vlad was left looking in moderate puzzlement.

…

Predictably, Jo heard approaching footsteps, and steeled herself for the round two.

A few seconds more, and Ian peered out of the doorway. Jo didn't want to look at him, so she couldn't tell the exact look on his face.

"I wish I could rewind time. But I know it doesn't work that way," Jo said flatly.

Ian knelt down in front of her so that she was practically forced to look at him. Well, Jo still tried to avoid doing that the best she could, but at least she could tell he was not looking angry.

"It's nothing that bad. I understand you're on the edge," he replied.

"But you won't trust me after this. You'll just be waiting for me to freak out again."

Now Ian was looking away too, shaking his head slowly.

"No ... I don't function that way. Instead – I was just thinking of how I shouted at you. That wasn't supposed to happen. I don't want that to happen ever again."

Jo hazarded a better look and understood that Ian in fact looked rather remorseful, like he really meant that. But he had just snapped out angrily, while Jo had first questioned the trustworthiness of him and all the Agents. Which was a far greater sin. Again, that didn't sit right with her. And again, it evoked something familiar. Since there were still so many blanks in her mind, it was easiest to think of him as the lost boy from the Slayer concert, who didn't deserve to feel that lost.

So Jo sunk down to the floor, next to him.

"This is probably not how you fix everything –" Jo began, and wrapped her arms around Ian's shoulders, somewhat warily.

"- But I hope it feels better. At least a little bit."

Ian made no move to protest, instead there was a faint smile on his face.

"That's how it always goes. It's always you who saves me," he said.

"I didn't pilot the alien craft. But yeah, I guess I get what you mean."

Jo couldn't have been more relieved that the situation had seemingly resolved itself that easily. Actually, if she was to think of it too much, she would probably cry. Not that there was anything wrong with it now.

But before that could happen, Ian spoke up.

"Hey … the car review. There's one more part which I forgot. We should go back to the Ka."

Jo was not sure if she liked the idea, considering the confrontation had started there.

"It's not going to hurt, I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Was originally supposed to be 3 chapters but it got so long that it had to be split up to five … so: the proper omen mortis shout-out(s) actually appear only here!_

_..._

To be sure, Ian was just a bit unsure how it was going to go. But since he had started the review, it had to be finished. After all, this last point was the Ka's unique strength. Ian had actually realized it only now. He almost thought of himself as stupid for not realizing it earlier. Also, in the best case this could refresh Jo's memory some more.

They walked back downstairs, out through the door to the gravel yard, while Vlad was still concentrated on his laptop, until they were at the tiny hatchback. The midday sun had become visible, bathing the driveway and the vehicle in almost overwhelming light.

"OK … basically you need to sit in the passenger seat. Leave the door open. And preferably close your eyes."

"You know how that sounds like? It can't be anything good."

Nevertheless, Jo followed the instructions, and Ian leaned closer to her.

"This is where no other car I know comes close. The wide doors make it very easy to scratch other cars on the parking lot, but to also do this –"

Ian slid his both hands under Jo and lifted her out through the door opening. Just about two seconds later came the realization that in his current not-hundred-percent condition, it was not the brightest idea. His voice strained from the extra weight, but he tried to keep a brave face.

"Next I could just ... keep walking round and round, singing to you. Or at least as long as –"

Jo laughed a little. "I thought you were going to tickle me. But wait … isn't that the whistleblower girl from Lethal Weapon 2? I don't exactly want to be dead. Though I guess Riggs didn't sing to her corpse."

It was insane how a few words could suddenly transport you to many years back, to someone else saying exactly the same thing. And seemingly right through the layer of Agent deprogramming!

Lucas.

Ian was only jolted back to the present by the realization that Jo was sliding off his arms, and it was too late to correct. The only thing he could do was to fall down onto the gravel with her.

The impact was definitely unpleasant. Ian thought the Agent armor would have protested by taking a few percent off the charge level.

"What? I became radioactive all of a sudden?" Jo asked. As far as Ian could tell, she wasn't hurt for real or angry, just amused.

"No. But this is insane … he said the same thing way back. Lucas. I guess that's a memorable scene. Or … it was a subliminal public health safety warning they inserted in the film."

"Funny. But – I think I remembered something too."

Before Ian could ask what, he sensed Jo grab his ankles and begin to drag him along the gravel.

"I had to drag your ass to bed, right?" she asked over the noise.

Ian had to search his memory; he did not remember exactly that happening, but he was fairly sure when it must have happened. After their Dawn Over a New World drive.

"Right."

The bright sun silhouetted Jo's face, so it was a little hard to see, but Ian could tell she was smiling.

"I can tell you're having a blast. Maybe I should drop you more often!" Ian shouted as the dragging accelerated. "But wait! I know where this is from. Not Conan or any other film. But Achilles Agony and Ecstasy in Eight Parts by Manowar! It's fucking twenty-eight minutes. Poor Hector gets dragged around the funeral pyre three times! And there's a bass solo called The Desecration of Hector's Body!"

"I get it. The Ka is the pyre. Three rounds!" Jo shouted back, yet picking up speed.

And Ian thought he would almost cry from happiness. This was exactly what should be happening. Too bad he didn't have the Agent sunglasses with him, he would have liked to see the armor display deplete toward zero in realtime, from the tiny impacts with the gravel.

The three rounds were over surprisingly fast. Ian could tell Jo had exhausted herself properly; she almost fell to the gravel next to him, breathing rapidly.

"You know you're crazy?" Ian asked. Only now he considered the possibility of Vlad watching them, but practically the only thing he could conclude was that they were getting along really well again.

Jo turned to Ian, locking eyes. He could only describe the look on her face as completely disarming.

"I can't connect all the dots yet, but that doesn't mean I can't have fun, right?"

At this point Ian had no more words. If he delved too deep into analyzing Jo's sentiment he probably would have burst into tears. Therefore he just leaned closer to kiss her. Jo wasted no time kissing him back, almost as if she was saying, why it took you so long?

But now that no longer mattered.

"We'll fix the Ka, right? And go on a long trip with it, with our fake names?" Jo interrupted.

Ian thought she had stolen his idea. But he definitely was not going to complain. The Ka trip was inevitable.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: I had an idea for an additional chapter and it refused to let go … so I had to come back just to write it! There is a sort of an ArmageddonClan homage again … thanks!_

_..._

The day had been intense, but finally it was almost over. After the Manowar funeral pyre ritual, Jo and Ian had also went for a run on the forest trail near the cottage. It was really just for fun, instead of keeping in shape for potential future Agent activity. Jo had also made sure to cut Ian some slack. She had even thought if the metal heart was not really working up to full efficiency, but it had to be just the whole ordeal with his resurrection and captivity that his body needed to recover from.

Having said good night to Vlad, they had retreated into the upstairs guest room once more, sitting on the bed.

"Everything OK now?" Ian asked.

Jo tried to think. Why would it not be? The day had gotten off to a bad start, but then it had been just upward from there.

She had some vague memory of exhausting herself physically to keep something that was bothering her out of her mind, but could not remember it in more detail. Could this be the same...?

If she thought about it enough, there certainly was something. It would potentially sour her good mood, but it was inevitable she would return to it sooner or later.

"Well, yeah. But I wonder –"

Jo could see Ian's expression focusing, as if he could guess it was potential heavy stuff upcoming.

"- if after what I've done, I still have the right to this kind of … light-hearted fun?"

"Do you mean, after going to Area 51?" Ian asked.

"Exactly."

Ian gazed off to the distance, thinking.

"It was war," he said finally. "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but at best … they were sitting on their asses. When they too could have been dealing with the Nibiru and SCEPTRE situation. At worst, they were complicit. Kind of the same as … withholding a cure to a plague that's going to kill us all. One of our guys, Hammerfist if you remember, was actually investigating that angle. But we didn't hear back from him yet, and had to make the call. I'm not … proud of some things I've done either. But we did what needed to be done. So of course … you have that right."

This was an obvious answer, and Jo was not sure if it eased her mind completely, but still it felt good to hear it.

"Thanks," she said. "I try to keep that in mind."

Ian took hold of Jo's hand. "Hey. It's good you tell what's on your mind. Even if it's not something exactly happy. I actually remember the last time we discussed that –"

Ian laughed a little. "You had been booted out from an Yngwie Malmsteen show. There was no mosh pit, and you wanted one. You probably don't remember, but I'll never forget. Sorry. That's one of his song titles."

That sounded ridiculous, so Jo laughed too. "I started shoving the others around?" she asked.

"Yeah. And assaulting the security."

Now Jo realized it was possibly not a laughing matter at all. Possibly it had been all about the rogue Fury personality her own recording had briefly touched on.

"But we're headed toward happier times," Ian said. "If we see him again with our fake names, I think this time you get to see the full show."

Jo thought about it.

Yes, they should be headed that way – but it was also as if they would still be up against the world, staying in perpetual hiding. It was still a melancholy feeling, almost overwhelming if Jo thought of it too much.

They could also just concentrate on the happy side of it, to be free to go wherever they wanted in complete anonymity.

Right now Jo was not sure which way it would go.

She shifted closer to Ian, who looked like he needed some cheering up too. There was something familiar in the whole situation.

"Did we do this too, a lot? Like … sitting around in a sort of downer mood?" Jo asked.

The answer was out so fast it almost startled her, Ian's voice a bit rough.

"Almost every time when about to go on Agent business."

Jo could well understand. When each time could have been their last together.

"Now there's no more Agent business," she replied softly.

"Right. We made it to the end. I guess a part of me still can't believe it. As I thought, surviving was already a stretch. But that you're here too."

This was getting rather emotional. "Where else would I be?" Jo got out with some difficulty, and shifted even closer, against Ian's shoulder.

Though he appeared to physically relax, he continued in a slightly unnerving, deadpan voice.

"I guess … a part of me waits for when it might be over. The rationale being, if I'm prepared, then it won't hurt as much. Earlier this day, I thought it would be that moment already."

That was unexpected. Harsh. Jo thought back to what Ian had said when driving toward Vlad's place, and it made more sense now. Possibly, this was the raw unfiltered honesty that Ian had been holding back until now.

"_If at any point you were to find that you feel nothing toward me, then – you'd be free to lift the clutch. It would hurt, but I'd survive."_

Then she had not realized the flipside of that thinking, that required the permanent expectation of any happiness being only temporary, terminated at a moment's notice.

"How can I make you believe you don't have to think like that?" Jo asked. She thought her voice resembled a raven's croak, which could have been amusing in any other situation.

"I guess this will hurt you, but – I don't know," Ian croaked back.

He was right. It did hurt. At this point Jo could no longer stop herself from crying audibly. Ian certainly noticed it, and turned so that he could comfort her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I guess I am like that."

Jo barely registered that, not because of being overcome with emotion, but because her mind was already elsewhere, racing to find a solution. If they had fought hell and persevered, surely Ian should be able to overcome his fears as well?

_I am what I am..._

A grainy, distorted voice screaming. Nargaroth. That was one of Ian's favorites, but it was unlikely to help now. Jo had to continue searching.

For some reason she started thinking of snipers. The kind of special clothing they used to conceal themselves, to blend in to the surroundings.

And suddenly, she remembered.

Having no other materials at hand, the Agents had constructed a Christmas tree out of the sniper clothing, the ghillie suits as they were called. She did not recall the situation with complete clarity, or the exact words she had used, but she recalled enough.

"I think –" she began. Still a raven croak, possibly even worse. "I already asked you to stay with me always. Isn't that enough?"

Even when seen through the haze of tears, the look on Ian's face was completely puzzled, but also very much glad. "You can remember that? I had no idea –"

The rest of his words were drowned by a growing hiss in Jo's ears. She was relieved, so much, that she just blacked out.

…

Jo did not quite want to return to reality yet, or to open her eyes. It was too pleasant to stay here in the in-between. She could sense Ian was kissing her one more time, still with a rather light touch.

"Come on now. I know you're awake."

Somewhat involuntarily, Jo stretched out her limbs. She realized too late that after that it would no longer be credible to keep the Sleeping Beauty impersonation going on. Well, everything had to end at some point.

She opened her eyes to see Ian's face quite close by.

"You scared me a little," he confessed.

"It was worth it, right?" Jo asked in reply. Her voice was still a raven's croak, but now she could appreciate the humor.

Ian had no words, at least immediately.

"You could kiss me once more for 'no', and twice more for –"

"How about 'I lost count'?"

Jo smiled back at him. That would do too.


	7. Epilogue

_AN: It has been an unforgettable trip .. writing these stories from both the beginning and end of the AoM timeline. But will need to go on a hiatus now. Thanks to all the category authors, without you these would never have happened, as well as to all the readers / reviewers!_

...

The sunset reflected off the small pyramid of beer cans and the repainted body of the Ka. It was still grey, but the bullet holes were all covered now. It was May now, and the trip had proceeded up to the west of Italy. Jo liked it more than France, somehow it was easier here to play a slightly dumb UK metalhead, and debate the locals on the merits of symphonic vs. harsher metal genres whenever they managed to spot a Rhapsody T-shirt, and were in the right mood.

The preferred route planning method had become apparent fast: stick to sparsely populated areas as much as possible. Not for security that much, but because the quiet was simply more pleasant. Finding a little used beach along the coast was always the best, like they had managed to do now.

The Ka was almost like a steel guardian watching over them, its tires partially embedded in the sand.

Jo sat in front of it, the cheap Squier electric in her lap, while Ian stood closer to the waterline, finishing his beer. It was almost odd to think that nothing was really wrong now, no existential threats or Agent missions waiting for them. Even the fake identities and the Ka's registration had stood to scrutiny; Vlad had done his work as expected.

The air was still; it would yet be pleasantly warm for some hours to come.

Seemingly from nowhere, a riff materialized in Jo's head and she began to play. It was a slow, tremolo picked black metal rhythm, something unusual for her.

The chords were Em – A5 – Csus – C5 – G5 – Hm, repeating over.

Ian turned to listen. "That sounds like Nargaroth."

Jo didn't know their entire discography as well as Ian did, but she thought it was not a direct copy of anything.

"I came up with it just now."

"Yeah, it's just very much like them. What's it about? Or did you think that far yet?"

Jo had only got as far as the melody. But now that she thought … she remembered the fearless "girl power" mission to the SCEPTRE observatory dome, which she and Gwen had managed with zero casualties. Except if the guards got executed later for their incompetence. Gwen had hacked the security log and rewritten it to look like the alarm had been caused by a "rat infestation." And now … only Jo was left to tell the tale. The mournful minor key riff was very fitting.

"Could be in Gwen's memory."

Ian came over to sit next to her.

"Yeah," he said.

"Fuck. Just before I was thinking like … how nothing's wrong. And now I wonder about Erik too. How is he doing? He hasn't taken contact yet."

Ian was quiet for a moment.

"It's OK. It's just something you can't avoid. I think he will contact us when he's ready. But now … do you want to hear something stupid to cheer you up?"

That kind of reply from Ian was as inevitable as the Ka trip itself.

"Go ahead."

Ian shifted closer, behind her, as he spoke. "Well, for the longest time I considered if it was possible to play guitar at the same time that you'd be in my lap. But then I concluded it's a physical impossibility. The guitar must be on you. You're the better player anyway."

Jo thought that put just in words that way, it was moderately stupid. But in her heart, especially right now, she found it hard to think of a better place to be. She leaned back, until she was practically using Ian as a pillow, and the Squier's neck was pointed skyward. She started playing four chords, strummed in a slow rhythm, repeating over and over: Dm – Am – C – G.

"That's definitely Nargaroth," Ian said slowly. "Zorn Des Lammes III, right?"

...

_At the same time on the other side of the Atlantic_

Her radio came to life, the male voice on the other end noisy and crackling, but just about decipherable.

"A troublemaker in the car park sublevel. Eyewitness saw him using a steel object, causing damage to the property. I believe you're closer."

"I'm on it," she responded.

Her late night shift (turning into morning) working security was just about to end, and now came this. She cursed inwardly. But a part of her longed for action, to get to actually apply violence. She descended the set of stairs and opened the steel door leading into the subterranean open parking space.

It didn't take long for her to spot the suspect. A tall, wide-shouldered man in a black leather jacket, his dark hair long and unkempt. He was swinging a heavy crowbar, trying to dent the steel dividing posts, as well as the concrete walls.

"Stop and drop the crowbar, hands where I can see them!" she shouted. She was already going for the Taser gun on her belt in case he wouldn't comply.

The suspect turned at her, his face oddly determined.

"I just wanted to see whichever breaks first, my arm, this bar, or the walls!"

She held the Taser in her both hands now and closed the distance, careful to not get too close. The response was as odd as the look on his face. If she was honest, it connected on a subconscious level. She could actually imagine herself in a state of mind that would lead her to do something similar.

"Not the place. You're damaging what's not yours. Now stop! Or I will use this."

"Go ahead."

She judged that it was useless to try to prolong this more. No matter how tough he was, he would not be a match for the high voltage. The response would be all involuntary. His jacket was open, and the wide chest would be an easy target, as long as he wouldn't dodge at the last instant.

She depressed the trigger, and the twin darts were propelled out along with their wires. She heard the steady crackle as the weapon began to feed out electricity, and it didn't take long for the man to fall on his knees, grunting in agony. The crowbar clattered to the floor next to him.

She walked cautiously just a little closer.

"Give me more," the man growled in a low voice that reminded her of death metal. More precisely anti-cosmic death metal, that her late boyfriend of sorts had liked to listen to.

To be honest, she was glad to comply. On the other hand, if she was being completely, hundred percent honest, she knew she was not fighting fair. To kick his ass physically would have been immensely more satisfying. But it could also have ended badly for her.

After the next prolonged jolt, the man did not ask for more, instead he just shook all over.

"Argh ... Listen, I understand now that I must test my strength somewhere private. Please don't detain me," he grunted.

"Rules are rules," she snapped back. Though the job was not that well-paying, she had little intention of losing it. It was a definite improvement over her previous, extremely shady employer.

"But even if you do, thanks for the experience. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."

She shook her head. This certainly was not your usual troublemaker. A part of her almost wanted to know him better, as absurd as it sounded.

She took a quick look around. The sublevel was still devoid of anyone else. As far as she could tell, the man had not smashed any of the few cars parked in here. Therefore, a crucial moral event horizon had not been crossed. She could, of course, just report back that the suspect had already vanished, and if she was lucky it would not come back to bite her.

"Can you walk?" she asked, as she knelt down to remove the embedded darts. The man grunted once more as she got them loose in a somewhat crude motion, then nodded silently.

She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline from doing the exact wrong thing. Paradoxically, that made it the right thing to do.

"Then go."

He stood up unsteadily. "I'm Erik, by the way."

This was crossing even more to doing the wrong thing.

"Kim."


End file.
